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IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
AND OTHER VERSES 



THIS IS THE AUTHOR'S 
AUTOGRAPHED EDITION 



In Love's Garden 

And Other Verses 

Ida Frances Anderson 




ARROYO GUILD PRESS 
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 






1 V^ 



Copyright, 1909, by 

IDA FRANCES ANDERSON 

Pasadena, California 



!CI.A253401 \ 



CONTENTS 



Introduction 9 

The Heart and Its Messag^e 15 

IN liOVE'S GARDEN 

liove's Garden 10 

liove's Conquest 2D 

Liove's Spirit-Image 21 

liove's Pride 22 

liove's Messagre 23 

-f— liove's Kiss 24 

-^ — liove's Dream 25 

.^^^. liove's Trembling; Joy 26 

liove's Day. . 27 

Iiove's Flowers 28 

liOve Unfathered 29 

liove's Ashes 30 

liove's Refusal 32 

liove's Waiting 33 

liOve's Cost 34 

Iiove's Pranks 35 

Love's Discovery 37 

liOve's Daivn 38 

liOve's Despair 4D 

liOve's Hope 40 

liOve's Unheeded liangruagre 41 

liOve's Phantom Sorroiv 41 

I.O ve's Joy 42 

liOve's Expectation 43 

liOve's Eyes 44 

liOve's Remembrance 45 

liOve's Measure 46 

Iiove's Presence 47 

liOve's lionging . ; 48 

liOve's Way 49 

liOve's Choice 51 

liO ve's Pear 54 

liOve's Late Coming; 55 

iiove's Desperation 56 



OTHER VERSES 

The Nearing Milestone 59 

Sometime Pictures 64 

Deatli's Transformatioii 65 

Tlie Two Temples 65 

The Idealist. . 66 

Voiceless Humanity 67 

The Death 68 

-4«*.-^The Vision 70 

The New Day 71 

Liittle Brown Toadstools 73 

Achieve 74 

The Rain 75 

The Captive Bird 76 

Outward Bound 77 

The Century Plant 78 

Lost Vision 79 

Beauty 80 

The Poet's Child 81 

The Mocking Bird and the Cricket .. . 83 

Dream 85 

The Coming Event 87 

Thine Armor 88 

A Passing Breeze 89 

Gratitude 90 

The Realms of Spirit 91 

The InTvard Urge 92 

^^.^»^ Man's God-Like Gift 93 

\.^. "'One Venture. 94 



INTRODUCTION 

By George Wharton James 




OR many years I have believed 
and taught that California 
was destined to become the 
radiating center of the artis- 
tic, literary and inspirational 
powers of the world. I have 
contended that the freedom 
of the V/est was one of the 
essential conditions for the 
highest and best development. The soul of 
man must have absolutely free course to ex- 
press itself, regardless of rules, conventions 
and restrictions. The soul only is of God — 
godlike; — rules, restrictions, conventions, are 
inventions of man, and while they often appear 
good, they also often do much harm. 

In this age of conventionality and fear to 
do anything different from the accepted stand- 
ard, it is a delight and a gratification to me to 
meet with work that shows power and free- 
dom, and a complete ignoring of all conven- 
tional rules. In her verses Miss Anderson has 
cared for neither rhyme nor rythm. She has 



had something to say, however, that was worth 
the saying, and that is well worth the world's 
hearing. But the reader who expects to find 
ordinary poems, set to the music of jingling 
rhymes, will lay the book down, disappointed. 
In form these verses are purely individualistic, 
— ^more so even than Walt Whitman's. Yet 
there is a spontaneity to them, and a rythmic 
quality that recalls the improvisations of the 
old Saxon skalds, or the singers of the Sagas, 
a primitive power of utterance that is both 
tuneful and dignified. Anything in our com- 
plex civilization that denotes a return to the 
simple, the primitive, the genuine, the un- 
affected; — anything that is absolutely free 
from the taint of the conventional, is espe- 
cially welcome to me, because of what I be- 
lieve to be its leavening influence in the world. 
We are all the while saying what the world ex- 
pects us to say, in the words the world has 
chosen we shall say our thoughts in, run into 
certain set moulds. Here comes a young 
woman, who, without blare of trumpets, or 

10 




shriek of defiance, calmly, quietly, and se- 
renely, because thoroughly conscious of her 
God-given right, says exactly what she feels 
in exactly her own way. Not one word too 
many or one too few, in order to conform to the 
rules of rhyme and meter. Indeed, as one has 
already said of her verse : "It is as if a woman 
of mature years, with exalted conceptions of 
life, her youthful ideals retained in all their 
sweet, full freshness, has expressed her inmost 
thoughts with remarkable clarity and precision, 
yet with the quiet, powerful and fearless lan- 
guage of a precocious child." 

I have prevailed upon Miss Anderson to 
allow me to use as her introduction a few 
verses, entitled "The Heart," which she 
brought to me as her own spontaneous expla- 
nation of the "why" of the apparent formless- 
ness of her verse, and her refusal to obey the 
conventions of prosody. It is worthy a careful 
perusal and long consideration. 

Anyhow, for what they are these pages are 
now given to the public. Their author has 

11 



INTRODUCTION 




already expressed in *'Man*s God-like Gift," 
her calm acquiescence and acceptance of "the 
worst man may do." So with both pleasure 
and fearlessness I now commend them to ail 
who value a free, spontaneous, natural expres- 
sion of the inner feelings and thoughts of a 
singularly pure, clear, transparent soul. 

GEORGE WHARTON JAMES. 
Pasadena, October 1, 1909. 



12 



THE HEART AND ITS MESSAGE 




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I ^^l,<^Ks9|0W can we measure the heart, 

\^^^ By line or rhyme? 

]ff JSSHI ^^^ rythmic beats not set to 

Of man's device ; 

Now fast, now slow, they 
move; 

Now stop for pause: 

E*en as the rythm of the wave 
That pulses free, unmeasured, 
Careless now to lose a beat. 
Careless now to measure full, 
But following true its own great law. 
O heart, shouldst thou be less? 
Hast thou no great law of thine own? 
Must the exact mind 
Measure thy beats by foot and line 
And cast thee in a mould of rhyme, — 
Thou, untamed and free? 
Not so! Yet many are the man-made rules. 
To twist thee out of shape. 
So that we know thee not. 
When thou art done thy voice. 
Rule would add another sound 

15 




mi^ir.^mf^^!%^^m m.cfjt^p^if^^mi^. 



AND ITS MESSAGE 



To fill the place prescribed. 
When thou wouldst pour another note 
To ease thy burdened self, 
"Stop!'' she cries, 
"It is enough, the line is full!" 
And when thou wouldst cry this, 
"Cry that,'' she says, 
"To make these sounds the same 
There must be two or more 
All dressed alike." 
O heart, full heart, 
How canst express thyself, — 
Thou loved offspring of the muse. 
Forever wild and free, 
That no man holds 
To tame and harness thee. 
But thou escapst, heaven-helped. 
And leavst thy shadow in the place? 
Glad am I thou of heaven art, 
And rules prescribed by man, 
If thou must brook. 
Thyself thou drawest hence, 
And leavst dead words in thine untenanted 
home. 

16 



IN LOVES GARDEN AND OTHER VERSES 




LOVE'S GARDEN 

N this garden Love's fair 

flowers 
Bloom apace. 
As they spring forth from 

the heart, 
Their root and chief 

resource. 
Fadeless flowers, 
Bom of hours 
In Love's life. 



Walk you in this garden. 
Your own garden. 
Live these hours. 
See these flowers 
Face to face; 
Your own hours, 
Your own flowers. 



19 



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IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



m 



LOVE'S CONQUEST 

Love came soft 

When sleep was on, 

And stole a look, 

And left a kiss 

On his closed eyelids. 

Then softly did she leave, 

As softly as she came. 

The kiss did sink into those orbs of blue, 

And wrought a vision there. 

Again Love came, 

And stole a look. 

And left a kiss 

On his dew'd lips. 

And this was wrought into a song. 

Yet once again came Love, 

And pressed her lips upon his heart. 

And there was wrought upon that heart 

Her goddess face. 

All full of tenderness and grace. 

And thus did love by stealth 

Woo and win him for herself. 



20 



LOVE'S SPIRIT-IMAGE 

Round about me lurks his spirit, 

Playing hide and seek 

'Mongst the rifts of thought. 

Now I pause, and there his image. 

Back to work, — 

It sinks in darkness. 

There again! the very moment 

I lose hold the threads of tension. 

Hovering round in wondrous nearness. 

Pressing, drawing, and caressing. 

Yet, O darling lover mine. 

When I reach my hands to hold thee 

Close unto my heart, 

Nothingness I clasp unto me! 

Pained and shamed and all pride-riven. 

Foolish I, to let my eager senses 

Think to press thee. Spirit-lover, 

Close against this red-blood heart 

That may never, never fold thee. 



21 



i^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 



I N LOVE 'S GARDEN 



LOVE'S PRIDE 

Will you go? Then go! 

I hold you not. 

Can you spare no love? 

'Tis well. 

I would have it not! 

But my heart, my heart shall weep. 

What my lips deign not to ask, 

O proud spirit! 



22 



LOVE'S MESSAGE 

Would I send the impress of Love 
To lips I ne'er have touched? 
Would I fold in close embrace 
The heart that might recoil? 
Ah, yes — and more! 
[ For Love cannot withhold its love. 
It can but cast it forth, 
Though fruitless still it fall. 
But do the lips refuse? 
And does the heart recoil? 
Ah, no, not so, in this sweet dream, 
Not dreamed in sleep. 
But fancy-woven in the heart. 



23 



\j LOVE'S KISS 

The first kiss — ^when and where? 

All blessing on that time, 

When heaven shall descend 

And take the hour, 

To have its will, to have its way. 

No eye may look, — ^but angel-eyes! 

No form draw near, — but angel-forms ! 

To bless that sacred hour, 

When soul meets soul 

At the gateway of the lips. 



24 



y ^~ AND OTHER VERSES P V 



^ LOVE'S DREAM 

And now, sweet sleep 
That wrests our troubles from us 
For so brief time, 
Fold me in thine arms. 
If not for all — sweet cruel sleep, 
Then for a space. 
The dawn! how it gilds the hills. 
How it floods the sky, 
How it makes new a world — 
Young and fresh and beautiful. 
From the sable night and the land of dreams. 
Love — tender child of Dawn, 
Roseate, fair and sweet, — 
That makes new a life 
From a faded day. 
I wake, and O the joy! 
Come I not forth 

Fresh from the touch of his circling arms, 
Radiant with light from his tender eyes, 
And drawn by that smile 
As the tide by the moon is drawn? 



23 



m^'^^^^M^s^^mM^^smsMssMim 



GARDEN 



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This all in dream — in the dawn's first glow, 

At the birds' first note. 

Sweet dream ! faint shadow of the real. 

But, ah, the real — how can I know, 

If yet the real 

Be sweeter than the dream? 



LOVE'S TREMBLING JOY 

O thou day-star, thou night-star, 
Thou blessed lamp of life! 
O if I should lose thee — 
God cleave the dark 
And reach a hand! 



26 



LOVE'S DAY 

That sweet, sweet day; — 

Let it live again in mind. 

Here lie I, where he lay, 

Pressing this friendly grass. 

And gazing on that sky. 

Methinks this cold earth pulsates 

With a warmth of him. 

Whose form is now replaced by mine. 

I mingle in his being thus, 

And drink the sweets he drank, 

Of air and sky and sound. 

On that delightful mom. 

Now so changed, 

But yet the same. 



27 



^^/^^^^^^^g^ ^^g^ ^g^-^?^^ ^ 




LOVE'S FLOWERS 

His spirit hovers round me ; — 

A circling zone of light: 

I breathe his being, 

And our souls spring each to each. 

These fair new blossoms I put forth 

Are not mine — ^all; 

But mine and his — sweet flowers, 

Born of our souls in Love's pure garden. 



28 



LOVE UNGATHERED 

The last rose on the tree 

Has shed its petals at my feet. 

The autumn winds have blown a blast, 

And summer's gone. 

How many a one has plucked his rose. 

And worn it on his heart: 

While mine was left to bloom and die, 

Its sweets ungathered. 

Now Death shall be my rose, 

And yield me perfume sweet. 

I'll have no fear I'll miss my flower. 

For Death blooms in the winter. 



29 



LOVERS ASHES 

Heap high the pile! 

Make bright the flame! 

What youth's rose colors 

In that flame! 

What tears, what sighs, 

What old time merriment! 

What memories tender, 

Clothed in youthful prattle, — 

Youthful ravings. 

Rainbow colored, in that flame — 

Incense spreading in that flame — 

Cold and gray in that blue smoke. 

But from the heap 

Snatch now that sheet. 

O haste! for there is yet another. 

Perishing with the rest. 

These would I keep. 

For they are sweet to me; 

Not sweet for love that was. 

But sweet for pain that was. 

What pitiful longings unfulfilled. 

What clinging, tender hopes, 

30 



Which I, the strong, 

The now matured, 

The tempered in the fire, 

Hold out before me 

To witness fade and die 

Yet once again. 

These are their courses, 

Fair, ah fair ! 

Lay them tenderly away, my heart. 

Deep in thy bosom! 

These fair, fair courses 

Of a youthful love. 



31 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



LOVE'S REFUSAL 

You think me chary of my kisses! 

I cannot tell you how 

My kiss is born of love! 

To press your lips in fond embrace 

Is Heaven's eternal seal! 

To you, 'tis but a pretty fancy — 

A fleeting golden moment. 

You care not to remember. 

Or if, perchance, you do remember, 

'Tis but a passing thought of pleasure. 

Such knowledge chills 

The tendrils that would cling, 

And makes me hold from you 

E'en that I fain would give! 



32 




AND OTHER VERSES 



LOVE'S WAITING 



To wait! to wait! 
What fate! what fate! 
How drag the hours; 
How sink the powers: 
A god might sigh. 
Why chide my cry? 
To wait, to wait, 
What fate, what fate! 
The sweet hopes die 
As days go by; 
The eyes in tears, 
The heart in fears; 
To wait, to wait, 
What fate, what fate ! 
Then haste, haste on, 
Thou look'd for one! 
Desire of soul and heart, 
So long we part. 
Why wait, why wait? 
Sad fate, sad fate 
For me, for thee 

33 



IN LOVERS GARDEN 



All time to be! 

And so I wait, 

Though late, though late; 

And how I pray 

For thee this day! 



LOVE'S COST 

Why ever looked I on that face, 

Whose pure, sweet soul. 

Seen from those eyes, 

Heard from those lips. 

And felt through that majestic presence, 

Shall haunt me evermore? 

What god or demon willed it so: 

To give love birth, 

Then slip pain in its stead. 

And add immortal life? 

Ah! pain unending: 

For one look on love 

How dear a cost! 



34 



LOVE'S PRANKS 

List! Hark! Stop the work! 

Love is at the door, 

Low and light the tap. 

If I ope the door, 

Will he enter now, 

Or but look and listen as before. 

With one foot upon the threshold; 

Till the heart, all o'erwrought, 

I^eaves her work unfinished. 

Gathering dust. 

While she stands forlorn. 

Sighing, hoping, and entreating Love 

To enter and possess? 

But Love does not enter; 

But Love will not enter. 

To thy work, O heart deceived — 

O heart enchanted. 

Love's but stealing of thy sweets. 

As the thieving bee 

Pausing on the flower: 

He to other flowers will go 



35 




IN LOVE'S GARDEN 




Soon enough, soon enough! 

'Tis the honey that he wants, 

Not the flower! 

But, O troubled watcher, 

Close not tight thy door; 

Yield some sweets to Love, 

While he lingers, while he stays. 

If he will not enter, 

If he will not earnest be, — 

Come to dwell with thee, 

Treat him as he treats; 

But yield not thy heart! 

That too sacred, too divine 

For Love's pastime! 

Keep that for a worthy hour. 



36 



LOVE'S DISCOVERY 

I found the home of my beloved, 

All hid in vines and flowers, 

All quiet in the moonlight. 

'Twas e'en a temple, where my heart 

Bowed from afar in love and longing — 

A temple where my feet might never enter. 

O pain delicious! 

To worship at Love's shrine, 

But ne'er that love possess. 

O heaven found: O heaven lost! 

O joy of joys! 

O pain of pains! 



37 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



LOVE'S DAWN 

'Twas in Love's dawn — the tender waking,- 

Love, all rose-colored, stole upon me. 

And stood, a smiling goddess, there. 

I kissed her garment's hem. 

Each thing she touched. 

Each thing she looked upon. 

Was wrought into an altar. 

Where my heart was wont to worship. 

All the world was then a temple 

For Love's sake! 

A sweet fane to linger in 

At night, at mom. 

And in each vagrant hour. 

Caught napping by the way. 

And then one only song I sang, 

As Time sweet wings did take: 

SONG 

All the world's a gala day, 
And the heart is out a-Maying; 
Sweet, sweet hours. 
Gathering flowers 
For to lay at fair Love's feet. 

38 



I When was ever life so rich, 
/ When was ever earth so sweet, 

As these hours 

Gathering flowers 

For to lay at fair Love's feet? 



39 



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1 IN LOVE'S GARDEN % 


>i£Km^^m^^s^^'i!^Mmm0^mk^'kmm 



LOVE'S DESPAIR 

I kiss you again, again, sweet, 

In dreams, in waking dreams, 

Be you alive, or be you dead. 

You know it not, sweet! 

Your soul is not of my soul, 

And hence no bridge can ever span 

The gulf that lies betwixt us. 

Whereon your soul might cross to mine, 

And feel that kiss, and know that love 

That burns for naught, for naught, sweet ! 



LOVE'S HOPE 

We dwell in different worlds, sweet: 

You cannot come to me. 

But when your soul is born 

Into the place I am, 

Then joy of joys, and light of light, 

You will be mine; 

And all the worlds will then rejoice 

At joy so great! 

40 



A 



W 



AND OTHER VERSES 




LOVE'S UNHEEDED LANGUAGE 

"I love you, I love you !" 

The heart o'er running speaks: 

"I love you, I love you!" 

The tell-tale eyes and cheeks repeat. 

"I love you, I love you!" 

The willing hands, and ready feet. 

And thoughtful mind in chorus join. 

"You see it not? You feel it not?" 

O blessed dullard you! 



LOVE'S PHANTOM SORROW 

Dost think I did not love thee? 

O that these tears might turn to flowers, 

These sighs breathe forth the breath of spring. 

And I might sink in this great sorrow, 

As on a bed of roses 

Suffused with sweetness. 

Though beset with thorns! 



41 



'mi^^m^s^^^mrE^m^^^i^iim 



LOVE'S GARDEN 



LOVE'S JOY 

"He loves me, he loves me!" 

The joyous heart outbursts. 

"He loves me, he loves me!" 

A thousand voices echo back 

From sky and sea, 

From wood and field; 

"He loves me, he loves me!" 

From bird and brook, 

From home and street; 

"He loves me, he loves me!" 

Until no sound that heart can hear 

From any voice in earth or sky, 

But — "He loves me, he loves me!" 



42 



LOVE'S EXPECTATION 

He is coming to me, my own! 

Night breaketh day by this much nearer: 

Day breaketh night by that much nearer: 

so near! 

1 almost feel the clasp of his hand, 

I almost breathe the breath of his breath, 
As my thoughts rush out to meet him. 
O queen that I am. 
Though I see no crown. 
My throne here already 
And he beside me! 



43 



^^i^^.^^m2^^^m^.^^m^m^^ ^ 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



LOVE'S EYES 

Two eyes I see in the mists of life; 
Two eyes I feel — two blue, blue eyes; 
Two eyes that ruleth me — 
Compel my thoughts to fly to thee, 

heart of mine, far, far estranged ! 

1 know not when, I know not how. 
Thy fortunes, too, I know not of. 
Nor where thou art, — 

All hid from me, all veiled in dark: 

But eyes of blue, thou eyes of blue, 

From out this dark 

Thou lookest straight at me. 

And movest my doubting heart 

To thoughts of my lost love. 

Lest I forget, unconscious to myself. 

O eyes of blue, be ever such a light. 

To light me to thee, heart of mine! 

That my whole life 

May flow to thee. 

In thought born of this light. 

And draw thee back to me. 



LOVE'S REMEMBRANCE 

For thee I shall plant a rose! 

And wear it in my hair, 

Or breathe its fragrance from my bodice, 

Or look into its purest purity 

From a vase of Attic mold, 

While I muse, or while I work. 

In morning hours. 

Fresh from the garden cut. 

With dew upon its lips; 

Or in the evening, 

With the lingering blush of sunset on its 

cheeks. 
So shall it be — this rose. 
In place of thy sweet presence 
Loved and lost! 
And this shall be our secret! 



45 




IN LOVE'S GARDEN 

LOVE'S MEASURE 

My love no measure knew 

Until by chance, one day, 

My thoughts dwelt on a jeweled piece 

Hung round the neck of my beloved, 

That boded rivalry. 

It thrust my heart — a poinard sharp ! 

And dead in faint it fell. 

In vain all efforts made 

To start the springs of life. 

For still my heart lies prone, 

Lost in unconsciousness. 



46 



LOVERS PRESENCE 

His presence fills this place 

As incense sweet. 

This street he walked! 

That scene he looked upon! 

Here he labored, here aspired, 

Here tasted joy and pain. 

There, on that quiet hill, 

The grave of one he loved, 

Green by his hand 

And hallowed by his tears ; 

At the turning of this lane, 

Safe lodged his heart 

In the resting place of home; 

And round that home 

Twine memories dewed with joy 

And memories wet with tears : 

Fond faces looked on him, 

Whose love his eyes looked back; 

Words, gentle, tender, low. 

Were spoken from loved lips. 



47 



^^ti/g^.^^^ssgf^?g^^^s^ga^^ 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



Now, all these gone, save but these shells 

Of house, and tree, and hedge, and road. 

And he, too, gone far from these scenes! 

Ah, gone? How false that word! 

How art thou gone? 

I see thee everywhere I turn. 

In street, in shop; by wood, and stream 

I feel thy presence always near, 

O heart most dear, most dear! 



LOVE'S LONGING 

Would I could impart my soul 
Bare of all words to you: — 
Words that confuse, impede 
The passage of the thought between. 

But could you then divine 
The thought I'd have you share? 
You! whom words have given no hint 
Of the soul-play underneath? 



48 



LOVE'S WAY 

If I do not much mistake, 

Love chooses a perilous way: 

In truth, she holds out all those charms 

For which my heart has longed: 

But with those long-sought joys 

Are mingled much of ominous mien, 

The which, would trouble me, 

Persuade my discreet mind, 

And judgment true, 

From taking Love for life; 

But Love so confidant, so pressing, 

So sweet, so all entrancing, says 

'*Fear not; 

If thou wilt go with me, 

I will transform these all 

So thou wilt see them not. 

But only me." 

Then hesitate not, timid heart. 

To follow Love's request; 

There wait thee all thy hopes 

If thou but give a trustful hand: 



49 



m^^^r.^m'i^mJjm^^^^^y^^^^^F'^^)^ ^ 



IN LOVE'S GAR DEN 



No trial thou canst not withstand, 

No sorrow sink beneath, 

No labor yet too hard for thee 

When thou in Love dost rest; 

For she will hold thee, she will fold thee, 

In her tender arms of strength. 

Invulnerable to things, and to thyself! 



50 




1 



AND OTHER VERSES 




LOVE'S CHOICE 

Radiant with the glow of the west upon my 

face, 
Fresh with the scent of poesy upon my lips, 
Sad with the world-cares on my heart. 
The pencil moves my thoughts to light. 
From their dark recess in the mind: 
My soul confused by light and shadow, 
Rended by this sweet and sadness. 
Breaks forth in broken song. 
Music soft, help me to sing 
The song that lieth on my heart, 
To gather up its scattered chords 
In one full song of cheer, 
A fitting tribute to my Love. 

SONG 

My Love shall be a princess 

With eyes of Heaven's blue. 

And cheeks the tint of a tender west; 

With lips made fresh by rosy spring 

That wells from her young heart; 

Her hair of silken spider threads, 



51 



^^^^.i^'=^^^^skm^m^yn^^^»F>>.^^\^ , 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 




Kissed by the lips of light, 

And twined in many a wandering curl. 

Her form, that grace and sweetness mixed, 

The image of the queen to be; 

A voice 'twould vie with Orpheus', 

To call the trees and flowers ; 

And hands and feet the thrice delight. 

And thrice despair of artist eyes: 

All these shall dress my princess 

Fit for her princely Lord. 

Then from within a voice of doubt; — 

"But will she have a soul more fair 

Than one who loves thee well, 

Whose face is plain, 

Whose form no goddess fair might choose, 

But of that soul, — ^what words? 

Has it no eyes of Heaven's blue, 

And cheeks of evening sky : 

No lips made fresh by rosy spring, 

No gold spun hair to nestle in — 

Thine eyes, and cheeks, and hungering lips? 

No form of queenly grace, 

And voice of bird and brook; 



52 



No hands and feet the envy of 

A wandering spirit dropped to earth?" 

Wait, wavering heart, be quiet now: 
Love I the soul more, or the body? 
Then let me choose. 



53 



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IN LOVE'S GARDEN 


i 


>^^^'^:immsf^^ms^^^sm:£m^^'^m:^ 



LOVE'S FEAR 

O Love, have I lost your hold? 

Is it dark that I cannot see you? 

Am I dead that I cannot feel you? 

Are you there, Love? 

Press my hand for the answer, 

Touch my lips for a sign, 

So I shall know I have not lost you ! 

O to lose you would be death! 

Then truest, truest Love, 

Closer press my hand. 

Lay your lips now on my heart. 

So its beats shall feel 

Your warm kiss. — 

Now, I know, Love, you are there! 



54 



LOVERS LATE COMING 

Can I hope at the gates of sunset 
To gather a flower of dawn — 
Love, pride of the garden 
And queen of all? 

Can I hope to gather Love's fruit, 
Apples of Life, 

Whose taste will open the eyes of the taster 
To knowledge of joy? 

My own I claim, — 
The fruit that had no blossom; 
The luscious vintage of the noon, 
And of the western sun. 

Fruit of day without a dawn, 

Aurora's beauteous child of night. 

Twilight-countenanced, 

And draped in clouds of gold. 

And sunset glory. 

O voice within, O voice without. 
Raise not in accent 'gainst this claim, — 
My soul's true heritage. 

55 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



LOVE'S DESPERATION 

Why at this fearful cost? — 

These torturous uncertainties ! 

These heart aches, heart breaks ! 

Strivings to the death! 

Is there so much of worth in this one? 

Are there not others full as fair? 

For others there be other, 

But there is none for me, 

None other in the cycling worlds — 

My soul's true mate! 



56 



OTHER VERSES 



THE NEARING MILESTONE 




YOUTH 

SHALL weep that day 
Upon the neck of Youth, 
Who now has turned to 

view herself, 
And for the first time hides 

her face. 
For lo ! the roses withered 

and the color fled, 
She hastens from the circle 

gay 

Of nimble feet, and song and dance. 
To seek a spot apart 
To weep alone. 

She cannot find a place 

Among that busy throng, 

Who long have cast their flowers away, 

And found a sweeter recompense 

In gratitude won from a suffering world. 

To whom they minister, — 

For she has all this while 

Been busy with her roses. 

59 



m^^jgir^^mPi^iQ.mji^^%.^^^^)^^F^>^ 




IN LOVE'S GARDEN 


m 


%^^^^^gf?^m'i;3m^^'ssmm^^'f^^';m^ 



She cannot join the crowd 

That sit, serene and well content, 

Around their cheerful hearths, 

Pressing their withered flowers, 

And sighing, "True they die, 

But others here more sweet. 

Let's bless the gods of Time 

Who steal the sweet but leave the sweeter,' - 

For still upon her, cling 

The robes of maidenhood. 

She cannot join that shining band 

That say: "Lo! Youth, how empty, how 

deceived, 
These laurels better far 
Than all the roses Youth has worn,"— 
For in her hand she holds no crown. 

Alas ! where must she go, — 

This lorn, unhappy Youth? 

Her once spring-garments faded; 

She has no home in all the earth. 

Ah! she must die! unloved, unsung! 

A garland, stranger, for her bier ! 

A tear, O world, for her lone grave! 

60 



LOVE 

I shall weep that day, 

Upon the neck of Love; — 

That I have long pursued 

In pain and torture, 

Held by fascination of her charms. 

As one who chases rainbows. 

I shall weep because we part, 

For I have called her from afar. 

To stay her steps that may be weary, 

From fleeing long and hard: 

"Return, thou oft pursued. 

Thou longed for, yearned for, all in vain; 

Fear not! I will not harm thee; 

I will no more pursue; 

Come, give thy hand 

In sad farewell. 

But let me weep upon thy neck, 

In one long fond embrace : 

These tears have e'en a balm 

To sooth this heart that breaks. 

But, ah, can break no more. 

Immune forever from thy charms." 

61 



^ ^^^^^^^^^^ggf^gg^^^^^^gig^^ 




Thus shall I weep upon thy neck, 

On that sad day, 

O loved, O lost! 

O dearest loss of all — 

On that sad day. 

So long to come, so feared. 

But all so quickly gone. 

For other days of toil and pain. 

And ah, perchance of joy, — 

A joy made new. 

Of different mien, 

Unseen, unknown, unborn. 

To that sad day. 

LIFE 

And I shall weep that day. 
Upon the neck of Life, — 
So poor, so all in rags. 
That started on the years 
With gold in hand — 
Those talents lent to all. 
That still lie in the hand, 
But small increased. 



62 



O Life, what hast thou done 

With all these years. 

That thou in rags 

Must still be clad. 

When costly garments should attire thee, 

And wealth lie in thy lap? 

O Life, we shall not part: 
Would that these tears 
Might waken thy dry heart. 
To put forth verdure fresh; 
That lo ! the years to come 
Might reap from this late spring 
A glorious harvest yet. 

O Life, let's look for this ! 

We two must still keep on. 

When these have gone their way. 

We cannot part. 

One cannot die without the other. 

And as I weep upon thy neck. 

On that sad day. 

My fondest wish, these acrid tears 

Give force to fill the unborn yecirs. 

Full to the brim. 

With winter's fruit. 

63 



^ ^^V ^ W^^^C^ ^g^S^ Sf^^^^r rg^^^^ 



IN LOVERS GARDEN 



"SOMETIME" PICTURES 

These "sometime" pictures that come and go 

When the eyes are closed, 

And the mind is still, 

Ere the dream-land folds have closed it in. 

Such mountains, and skies, and plains. 

That break into landscapes fair, 

And come and go on the closed lids, 

In quick panoramic view! 

Such pictures, no artist ever paints; 

Such pictures, no poet ever dreams; 

Such pictures, no eyes have seen awake ! 

But enough — you know not what I mean, 

If you have never seen 

These pictures come and go. 

When your eyes were closed. 

And your mind lay quiet — though awake. 

On the border-land of dream. 



64 



DEATH'S TRANSFORMATION 

O blessed is that Death, 

That brings us closer yet than Life, 

As the years slip by ! 

That cuts all branches from the tree, 

But the limbs of Love, 

Until the tree at last 

Is left of Love entire. 



THE TWO TEMPLES 

At the parting of this road, 

Two temples stand: 

Stem duty points to one. 

But my heart is with the other. 

I go where duty points. 

Still my heart is with the other. 

O loved hills, and trees, and skies! 

sacred house of prayer ! 

1 thank, thee. Father, for these both, 
For both are Thine. 



65 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 

THE IDEALIST 

Past twelve ! past twelve ! 

The hands set towards the West, 

And day declines. 

What work progressing? Tools about, 

And the workman in his shop: 

What pieces done? No form complete; 

But the Master hopes to fashion, 

The pieces in his hand, 

Perfect in Truth and Beauty, 

Like the model shining before him. 

This is his dream; 

And he lives in his dream, 

While time slips away, 

Till death one day 

Takes hold his hand. 

And the dream comes true. 



66 



VOICELESS HUMANITY 

Alas! the poor mute lips, 

That cannot speak their tale of woe : 

Fixed like stone, without a voice, 

That need must wait, 

Dumb servitors of Fate, 

For a poet to give them voice! 

Some tearful Shelly 

Bemoaning upon the shore, 

May pour his voice to the answering waves ; 

But these dumb souls, 

With woes as heavy. 

And hearts as broken. 

Must suffer, standing mute, 

Like tearless stone! 



67 



IN LOVERS GA RDEN 




THE DEATH 

There was a death within our house, 

Last night! 

O how you'd laugh, 

If I should tell; 

And hold your hands 

In mirthful, mock derision, 

At one so puerilely tender. 

To call it death, — 

The agonizing of a mouse 

Caught in a trap. 

Yet, none the less, 'twas death, 

Which we, too, once must feel, 

And pain that makes us thus akin 

To creatures such as this. 

So scorned, that pain to them, or death, 

Is but a theme for cruel sport. 

Ah, Love! art so perverted? 

Or, are there different loves. 

One for our kind, — 

A great, broad, royal feeling, — 

And one for creatures such as this? 

68 



Then Love is not so much to me: 

For I dream higher things of Love. 

I would believe that Love 

Is all-enfolding, all-heart-reaching, 

That even to the meanest creature, 

It bendeth down 

In tenderness and pity, 

To feel a pain, to ease a wound, 

E'en though that creature 

Were an insect. 

E'en though that creature 

Were a noisome pest. 

This much of pity is its right. 

If Love be sent of God, 

If Love be God. 



69 



THE VISION 

Keep clear thine eye, 

Keep true thine heart, 

Nor faint, nor cease, 

Nor slack thy patience: 

Then in a moment, 

When thou thinkest not, 

The heavens will unfold. 

The glory will descend. 

The vision will appear; 

And overcome with seraph joy, 

Thou then shall faint. 

Thou then shall fall. 

But Gratitude shall wake unconsciousness, 

And Love shall lift thee to thy feet. 



70 



THE NEW DAY 

As I open my eyes, 

Day stares at me, 

And Night with a beckoning hand: 

"I relieved thee these long hours, 

And took thee to my land of dream, 

To wander free 

And rest thy labored limbs. 

Take up the burden now again. 

And travel this new day, — 

So like that yesterday: 

But ah! perchance so changed, 

Yea, thou thyself art changed, 

For I have made thee all anew — 

Have woven with my spell, 

All past experience and knowledge, 

Into a fabric different, 

So that, a stranger to thyself. 

Thou goest forth 

With each new day. 

Knowst thou what dost await thee 

In this day? 

No signs forev/arn thee, good or ill, 

71 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



In that bright sun, 

That blazes through thy window; 

Or in those boisterous shouts 

Of roused rejoicing life. 

Thou livest to the direst ill, 

But all unconscious; 

As moves the unwarned train, 

Upon the yawning gulf. 

Thou stumblest unawares 

On richest opportunity. 

As on a hidden treasure. 

Look not for either, 

In this day. 

But take thou hold the wheels of toil, 

Content, if only, at my call. 

Thou hast persisted hard. 

And earned thy hours of rest. 

Which I have given thee, 

And still will give again. 

'Tis heaven's portion to the just and unjust, 

But sweeter to the just. 

List! now the wheels of toil are creaking. 

The air resounds with labor. 



72 



Stay thou not longer here 
With Night's receding spirit, 
But to thy work!'* 



LITTLE BROWN TOADSTOOLS 

Sweet little brown toadstools, 

Huddled all in a heap ; 

Nine bonny caps, 

Just pushed from the rain-softened mould. 

This picture I caught. 

In one rapid glance. 

And held, as I hurried along. 

While the soul of their soul 

Went into my soul. 

And breathed forth a gladness there; 

And I felt more akin. 

In a new subtle way. 

To the great loving heart of Nature, 

And I fain had caressed 

Those nine bonny heads. 

That nestled so jauntily there, 

On the lap of their warm earth-mother. 

73 

10 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



ACHIEVE 

Achieve! achieve! O soul, thine own, 

God on His throne is keeping it 

Close in his hand for thee. 

Reach forth and take, 

Nor Fate, nor Death, nor worlds, 

Can wrest it from thee; 

For He holds it. — 

Thine own eternal portion, 

Bequeathed that day He did beget thee. 

And waiting, waiting. 

E'en though for eons, 

For thy claim. 

Why then a world between, 
Why then the flight of ages? 
This day thy right possess. 
This day achieve, 
O soul, thine own! 



74 



THE RAIN 

Methought — my mind absorbed in dreams — 

It was a drum I heard. 

'Twas but the rain, 

Tattooing on the window-pane. 

The gushing rain, pell-mell it fell 
Upon the roof's decline. 
With here a drop, and there a drip, 
Down from the house's eaves. 

The poor grass laughed. 

And reached its head; 

The flowers spread wide their cups. 

Ah ! laughter was heard in the farmer's heart, 

Its ripples touched his face. 

And the whole great world of Nature round. 

Echoed back the sound. 

Of the drip, drop, on the house's eaves, 

The drum on the window pane. 



7S 



mmf^SM^^S^^^^^SSM^m^^MCm 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 



THE CAPTIVE BIRD 

A prisoner he, 
In that tiny cage ; 
His song the color 
Of his lonely heart — 
Sad chirps, low trills, 
His birdling sighs. 

Yet sometimes he forgets his grief, 
And warbles forth a note of cheer, — 
A love song round and full. 
To a mate he feigns to see; 
Each atom of his little being, 
Vibrates with his birdling's soul. 
Quivering like a wind-touched palm; 
While the music bubbles forth. 
But soon, the rapturous flood of love 
Falls back to lonely chirps. 
And the tiny frame 
Shrinks tinier in loneliness. 



76 



OUTWARD BOUND 

Give me a ship — a big ship ! 

I go upon the seas; 

Be thou my captain, 

Maker of the worlds. 

The seas I do not know, 

Nor of that bourn I would arrive, 

Destined of thee, 

E'er the worlds were formed. 

Farewell, this land-bound harbor! 

Farewell, these placid waters! 

The ocean calls, the ocean calls. 

Haste, loose the anchor. 

And away, away. 

To the unknown waves. 

To the unknown winds. 

And the unknown shores beyond. 



77 



^g^^r.^^^Saf^g^C^:^S^^^ 




THE CENTURY PLANT 

The time of fruiting has arrived! 

I must put forth 

In one year what I strove in ten: 

In one quick growth, 

The measure of a life: — 

The long, the dull, the tedious many. 

The strong, the rapid, glorious few. 

Without the first what then the last? 

Without the last, why then the first? 

Come air, and sky, and earth, and all. 

And yield a willing aid. 

For this last growth — this bloom,— 

My life — my death! 



78 



LOST VISION 

Who are these along the way, 
So quiet and so comfortable, 
Whom ambition stirs no more: 
Who watch the years* procession pass, 
As they who dally at the river's brink. 
Gazing at the purling waters move 
Onward towards the great sea's bourn? 

Gone the glowing flowers of youth ! 
Lost the blush from off the grape ! 
Stolen the sweet from out the honey ! 
Subdued they walk beneath the stars. 
No hands outstretched. 

Lo! these are they — with vision lost, — 
Whom Nature's anaesthesia has o'erpowered: 
They breathe it in with deeper breath 
At each new milestone's turn, 
Nor fight the death-fraught power. 
Content to sleep the years away. 
Content to lose their crown! 



79 



mii.^^..^m=^^i^iMm^^^.^^^^ 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



Shall I, too, be overcome, 

And let my birthright 

Gently loosen from my hand? 

Ye gods forbid! 

Infuse into my veins immortal youth, 

And rouse the dead'ning sense, 

By soul-awakening pangs of hunger: 

This continue till full-ripened life 

Drops from the stem. 

BEAUTY 

A boon, I ask, 

O loved All-Father! 

Beauty in all things to see, 

(So must the eyes of poets be) ; 

Beauty in all things to feel, 

(So must the hearts of poets be) ; 

No thing too small. 

Too common or despised. 

To 5rield its world to beauty. 

And fill the heart, day piled on day. 

More full of thee, — God, — 

One with Beauty. 

80 



THE POET'S CHILD 

I needs must let you go, 

Strange, unfathomed child. 

Form and likeness of my soul. 

Prayed for, brooded on, and wept o'er! 

Child of anguish and of toil. 

Child of love and hope. 

Aye, scorned at times and hated! 

I lose you from my heart at last, 

To wander in a stranger world! 

I cannot analyze nor understand you. 

Child of mine. 

More, mayhap, than they who meet you! 

If perchance your image 

May be like unto their own. 

Some comfort may be theirs, 

In sympathy and companionship. 

If not, you still must stand. 

My own true child, 

Unfathomed but by God! 

Who knows with what heart tremblings 
I now release your hand ; 
I, who all these years, 

81 

11 



^<4^g:-.^^gg^f^ggg^^ 




IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



Have held you here, 
Secreted near my heart, 
Part of me — ^mine own self, — 
Life of my life, 
Breath of my breath. 

I cannot longer hold you. 

Else you may perish in my grasp 

For other lives to live in. 

To grow, increase, be part of them. 

I now unclasp you from my heart. 

My own soul's likeness. 

Living by this breath from me! 

Go forth and live your life, 

For I to fuller life must haste. 

To breathe forth others such as thou. 



82 



.^^^-^:^^w^^«^ 1 


y^ AND OTHER 


VERSES 


V^ 


^-^P^ , —^SlO^ 



THE MOCKING BIRD AND THE 
CRICKET 

A night like this the mocking bird, 
Full drunk with love's red wine, 
Had flooded all the moonlit vale 
With the boisterous voice of spring. 

Now silent is that voice, 
Gone with the spring, the joy; 
But from his grassy tent. 
The cricket cometh forth. 

How soothing is his level chirp, 
That lies along the earth. 
Nor ever seeks to soar 
Above his leafy bower. 

He thrills me not, nor lifts me 
Heavenward, to wing among the stars, 
And revel in those wild delights, 
A feast for gods. 

But chirping cheerily through the night, 
Over and over, his one song. 



83 



'^^^^r.^mf^^^e^k^m^^S^.^f^^^^F^^^m 




Keyed to one droning note, 
As a viol of a single string. 

Drowsiness soft benumbs the sense. 
The moonlit earth fades out of view. 
And heavy slumber closes down 
Upon the world of sight and sound. 

O happy, cheery, humdrum cricket. 
Thou fellow of the earth. 
For tired out limbs and minds contented, 
Thou makest music in thyself. 

But thou, O bird of heaven and cloud, 

That casts in wantonness about 

Thy frenzied gladness ! 

For poets wast thou fashioned, 

That their tired souls. 

Held long in tensest strain 

By life's tight cords. 

Might thus relax. 

In exercise of joy. 



DREAM 

'Twas only a dream, 

Such a beautiful dream, 

Sacred to him and me; 

He of a world unknown, 

Yet I loved him in this dream. 

But even in dream, 

A shadow fell 

O'er him and me, 

On the very hour of joy. 

To filch it of its sweet. 

But I said, Let fall, 

'Tis ever so. Let's love 

And gather joy. 

Though it only last a day. 

Let's drink. 

Though it only be a sup. 

And live all life in this moment. 

Full knowing that crafty Death 

Will claim as his share the rest. 

But, crafty Death, 

Thou art somewhat riven 

85 



I N LOVE 'S GARDEN 



Of thy black glory, 

For thy ebon wings 

Are edged with light, 

The light of this one moment's bliss/' 

We drank, 

And lived all life in that moment! 

And gathered all bliss at a sup ! 

In this dream. 

This beautiful dream. 

So, even in dream. 

Love may still live on 

Its sweet, though partial life, 

Hot chased by pain. 

To glean what joy must lose 

(The greater share). 

Soul looks on soul. 

That deathless look. 

Then parts, nor looks again. 

But O sweet dream, 

I keep you back. 

And am loth to let you fade 



86 



Into the hosts of other dreams, 

Forgotten long ago! 

For you hold me by your spell. 

In that one moment's bliss, 

That reaches from dream unto waking. 

That reaches from night unto light. 

And shines as a star of the day. 



THE COMING EVENT 

Then, it was a month between. 

And then a week. 

And now a day: 

And soon an hour 'twill be. 

And O, the very moment follows on! 

What if this thing were Death, 

And Heaven so near. 

Would I be fearful of the moment's brink? 



87 



IN LOVER S GARDEN 




THINE ARMOR 

To work ! O youth, 

In thine own armor clad, 

And strike thou to the death! 

Assay not to adopt 

A ready armor to thy hand. 

For ease, or gain, or time. 

Or seeming best convenience. 

'Twill play thee false! 

Then choose — ^and wisely, — 

Thy God-appointed armor. 

This only can develop thee, — 

Thy brain's true brawn,^ — 

Thy soul's true steel, — 

This only gives thy hand its surest cut, 

This only makes thee feel within 

The rising God, 

Strong-sheathed to conquer all. 

No David in Saul's armor. 

May fell the coming foe ! 

For Fear, thy archest enemy. 

Lies hid in every fold 

Of borrowed armor, 

88 



To strike thee from within, 

Before thou strikst without. 

Then up, O budding hero, to thy work, 

And in thy God-appointed armor! 



A PASSING BREEZE 

Soft a breeze comes down this way. 

How the poppies hold their hats. 

How the eucalypti bow. 

How each pepper-leaf salutes. 

Each its partner now. 

How ashamed the grasses totter, 

In uncertain poise; 

What a shiver in the palms, 

What a turning up of capes 

In the clover lawn. 

O you naughty breeze, 

Such a havoc and a stir 

You have made in leaf and blade. 

By your sudden sally 

Down our quiet way. 

89 

12 



m^k^^r^^mn^Sk^^^m^^^^f^^^p^^ 


Rl IN LOVE'S GARDEN || 


m^^^^^^^^^^^^mf^^m^^m^i^m^ 



GRATITUDE 

I thank thee, Father, 

For that little sweet; 

'Twas like a fresh spring draught 

To parched lips. 

'Twas like a soft cool touch 

To a burning brow. 

'Twas like a moment's pause 

In hours of pain. 

That little sweet, to think on. 

That little sweet, to dream on, 

More, more, to this starved heart 

Than ten-times-ten that, to the full! 

O sweet, sweet, tender thing of joy, 

Thou savest me from Death! 



90 



THE REALMS OF SPIRIT 

Youth, youth and roses stay, 

Stay in the soul and keep me young! 

Young to think with the youngest mind, 

Young to feel with youngest heart. 

Young to walk with the youngest feet, 

That lead the way, 

To regions unexplored, 

To worlds ahead; 

Worlds more vast, 

Than lay before Columbus' gaze ; 

Worlds whose shores 

Stretch onward to infinity. 

When all the soil of earth 

Has felt the tread of man. 

The highest point been scaled by him, 

The deepest depth by him descended, 

The farthest spot his common ground, 

Still shall he look for worlds. 

Worlds more vast, to conquer! 

Then to his inner eye. 

Shall loom those regions vast. 



91 



^i^msSitwisf^m^wMJi^^Sffii^s^mm 



IN LOVE'S GARDEN 



^ 



Unconquered, unexplored, 
And he shall rise unto the task, 
Shall rise and conquer. 



THE INWARD URGE 

The skies are brass ! 

The gods have turned to stone ! 

This clay has played me false! 

The will, shame-faced, 

A coward, slinks away. 

Rigidity sets in. 

As one gripped in the vise of death ; 

And yet, I may not pause. 

But on, and on, and on! 

A force within crowds up this cumb'rous mass 

To reach its God-appointed complement. 

I move, I still reach out. 

As a weakling blade of grass. 

Strong from a force within, 

Pushes forth for light! 



92 



MAN'S GOD-LIKE GIFT 

One thought the high born race of gods,- 
Who walk in pain this mortal world- 
Have left for solace. 
O glorious scorn ! They can refuse ! 
Fate may snatch from out their grasp. 
All things they would; 
But O, delusive Fate, 
Have they not looked on heaven 
E'er ever the worlds were bom? 
The cheap earth substitutes 
Thrust in their eyes, 
They can refuse; and still have strength 
To walk in god-like solitude their way. 



93 



mmm^/ms^^siM^^^^f^^^^i^^^^i 




IN LOVE'S GARDEN H 


m^^''m?^mn^^^m^m^?''?m^^ 



ONE VENTURE 

I've ventured all in one argosy! 

If the winds blow foul, 

Then all is lost, save this : 

To be called a fool by the hard-eyed world. 

That counts not the courage of the venture, 

Nor yields aught to him 

Whose Argosy fails its harbor. 

But be it a fool then, — or a god; 

(It cannot fail of one). 

The true heart can but venture 

His all in a noble cause, 

Else his conscience brands him fool within ; 

Or, losing — the world brands him fool without. 

The winds of Fortune 

Who can determine? 

The venture alone is sure! 

The highest reward is that! 

E'er ever the vessel moves ; 

For God counts the venture. 

While man counts the gain of the venture. 



94 



Yet sweet to him who has ventured 

Is the ladened vessel's return — 

The visible winnings of labor — 

Though it count not with God ; 

Though he care not the count of man — 

Yet sweet to himself, 

The success of his dear-bought venture, 

That cost him a world. 

Though that world be a bauble! 



95 



The writing of this book 
was done by Ida Frances 
Anderson. The designs of 
the headings were by Alma 
Cock, the typographical ar- 
rangement by Charles H. 
Smith, and the presswork 
by Arthur li. Jason. The 
book as a whole was de- 
signed and made by George 
Wharton James at the Ar- 
royo Guild Press, 201 Avenue 
Sixty-six (Garvanza), Los 
Angeles, California, in the 
year of grace, 190 9. 



DEC 18 m2 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



015 863 824 1 



